"Duval took the bet and raised him back another hundred. But the man had
only fifty dollars left. However, another fellow, standing in the crowd,
put in the extra fifty to make two hundred dollars a side.
"Then Duval opened the bag, and it _was_ salt. He had changed the bags,
and the fellows who worked up the trick were his cappers."
One of the old-time river gamblers was an individual, blind in one eye,
known as "One-eyed Murphy." Murphy was an extremely artful manipulator
of cards, and made a business of cheating. One day, shortly after the
_Natchez_ had backed out from New Orleans and got under way, Marion
Knowles, a picturesque gentleman of the period, and one who had the
reputation of being polite even in the most trying circumstances, and no
matter how well he had dined, came in and stood for a time as a
spectator beside a table at which Murphy was playing poker with some
guileless planters. Mr. Knowles was not himself guileless, and very
shortly he perceived that the one-eyed gambler was dealing himself cards
from the bottom of the pack. Thereupon he drew his revolver from his
pocket and rapping with it on the table addressed the assembly:
"Gentlemen," he said, speaking in courtly fashion, "I regret to say that
there is something wrong here. I will not call any names, neither will I
make any personal allusions.
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